Prisoners of Time: Origins Reborn
by Mrs.Phineas Bogg
Summary: Story I: 1882, NYC. Phineas Bogg, inventor and graduate of Voyager Academy, has discovered the means to time travel. He meets young orphan Jeffrey Jones, and nearly loses his most precious possession to a cruel gang. He soon learns what he values most.
1. Chapter 1

**Prisoners of Time: Origins Reborn**

**Story I  
**

**Bogg Manor-September 1st, 1882**

Strong, late summer winds blew through the sparsely lighted streets, sending debris and the first traces of colored, dead leaves scattering over freshly paved sidewalks and cobblestone thoroughfares. Darkness settled in. A rainstorm was brewing. The rhythmic clopping of hooves and rattling wagon wheels blended pleasantly in the young man's ears and soothed his impatient spirit. He flicked his longish, wavy, hair out of his face and scratched his chin. He had grown three days worth of beard stubble. It made no matter, he hadn't stepped out of the house for days.

An earsplitting clap of thunder failed to startle him. He kept his serene, crystal blue eyes upon his current task and continued to tinker on his project – an invention almost two years in development. He figured he would give himself a couple of more weeks, and then it would be ready for the human testing phase. _Idle hands were the devil's workshop._ It was an old adage his professors expounded on him and he learned to take it to heart.

Phineas Bogg was born of a sea-faring family; his father had been the owner of lucrative, passenger ships. He had lost his dear father to a turbulent storm at sea and his beautiful mother to smallpox not long after. She was accustomed to traveling with her husband and contracted the disease through infected travelers. He blamed the rugged seaman's lifestyle for their early deaths and wanted little to do with it.

Phineas chose to live in a luxurious apartment within the hub of New York City. It was purely for convenience. He wasn't necessarily the reclusive sort that desired to stay out his days in New England or other countryside retreats. Manhattan Island was young and thriving, full of interesting peoples from vivid cultures, and he didn't have to sail the world over to discover them.

Although Phineas was adept at his hereditary profession, and excelled in athletics and music, he discovered he possessed a knack for invention. He indulged himself in building what others found to be nonsensical gadgets. He often impressed his classmates and professors at the elite and fledgling _Voyager Academy_. With just himself and his vast, inherited fortune to guide him through life, Phineas never denied his whims, nor would he back out of a challenge. He had never heard of Voyager Academy until the headmaster, Professor Gerald C. Garth, approached him four years ago.

It was an odd school of choice for his training. The courses were dynamic, though a few were tedious and difficult to comprehend. Their focus lay on world historical studies, science, and physics. There were peculiar classes on cultural mores and ethics, and exciting ones that involved self-defense strategies and weaponry. Phineas learned things far beyond what was taught at any other academy. The most intriguing aspect was that every student was sworn to secrecy as to his or her studies and nearly all of them had similar life circumstances. They were alone in the world, unmarried, childless, and their families gone astray or dead. The first graduating class was small, merely fifty students. Phineas was awestruck that amongst the students and professional staff were people of color and other nationalities, and there were a number of females.

Phineas enjoyed the company and attention of the female students. Though attracted to her, his patience was sorely tested with the brazenly competitive and tomboyish Olivia Dunne. He was later captivated with the mysterious and elegant Susan Beaudreau. He often suspected both were endeared to him. But he was sternly reminded of one specific rule. There was to be no courtships between classmates, or fellow _Voyagers_, as the student body was called.

The lessons at Voyager Academy were too intense to have the student's hearts and minds aflutter with dreams of romance. This prickled Phineas' nerves, but he soon understood their reasoning when his coursework interfered with nearly every aspect of his personal life. Any irritating and addictive habits a student posessed had to be quenched within the first three months, or else they faced expulsion. Phineas had only known one student who was kicked out, Dante Danior Drake III.

Phineas could only imagine Drake was the third in a long line of cheats and vile men. He had caught Drake cheating on his final exams, but chose not to be a tattletale. However he couldn't resist spreading a humorous rumor when he found out that 'Danior' meant _'born with teeth.'_ By the time Drake was expelled, nearly all the students were calling him 'chops.' He didn't know why Drake was removed from the academy and dared not to ask, but the story went that he had stolen a very valuable tool from the academy science labs.

Those chosen for Voyager Academy had a specific calling, and needed to put personal differences and preferences aside. There was no bigotry among his professors and all were treated as equals. Students who failed to accept this credo were expelled. Phineas was often told by his professors that he was the least discriminatory young man they had ever met.

**~V~**

Phineas took pause from his work to down a glass of cool water and finish off the vegetable soup and half of the thick meat and cheese sandwich his maid had left for dinner. He decided not to eat heavy meals when he worked, it would spoil his concentration and make him drowsy. Phineas glanced at the black, leather-bound journal beside him. The winds had blown it closed and he opened it to the section he needed. The thin, gold-rimmed pages were fluffy from use and the ink was worn and smudged with his fingerprints.

The guidebook _never_ left his person. Neighbors had begun to view Phineas as eccentric when they spied him strolling through the streets in scruffy, pirate style clothes with a fountain pen in hand. He was was always intensely occupied in the book's contents. They were filled with Academic and personal notes, sketches, and calculations. It contained over two year's worth of engineering and scientific research that had enhanced his intelligence and understanding of his very important endeavor as a future _Voyager_.

On the exterior, the book resembled a bible, with a large 'V' etched in gold and his name embossed in elegant lettering across the bottom right corner. This was his personal guidebook; presented to him upon his graduation from the Voyager Academy. Phineas begged to be given this specific invention assignment. It was a fantastic notion his professors had, but after applying himself to his courses, Phineas realized its critical significance and the Academy's ultimate goals.

At the ripe age of twenty-five, Phineas Bogg never guessed that he would grow bored with the frivolity of his privileged life and the vanities of his extremely handsome youth. Although far from a dandy, Phineas had often been seen at influential public events, shows, and gatherings with various ladies on his arm. He never took the outings very seriously, and always looked out for grander prospects than to marry young and settle into his wealth. His professors noted he was a plucky man, prone to distraction, but dedicated to his assigned tasks and a loyal sort that would do his best in whatever situation was thrust upon him.

"_Your imagination, creativity and youthful vivacity will certainly aid you in your future occupation,"_ they had cryptically told him. They never breathed a word on what that future occupation would be, until his final year.

A bolt of blue lightning streaked across the sky and a few of his newly installed light bulbs burned out. Phineas stood up and approached the window. He would fix them in the morning. Raindrops pattered down, then the sky opened up and he could no longer see the streets before him. He rested his hands on the windowpane.

"I can only hope whomever is lost out there tonight finds safe haven." He murmured.

Phineas cracked his knuckles and stretched out his sinewy body. He was going to have to engage in some sport before long, or else he would lose his stamina. He chuckled at the thought of his maid, Ramona. She had been scolding him to eat more because she felt he was growing much too gaunt. Ramona was a cheery, elderly Scot who had served the Bogg family since Phineas was in knickers. She was the only woman he trusted next to his mother and he viewed her as family. Gracious servitude was her life course and she had grown very fond of the Boggs. Although she feared losing her position upon his parent's death, Phineas would have never thought to turn her out.

Phineas' keen eyes focused on the streets below. The downpour ebbed but he observed people still running to find refuge and shuttering their windows and storefronts. The lightning and thunder continued their boisterous noise and frightened horses. Phineas' gaze happened upon a small figure in dark, shabby clothing sprinting down the cobblestone. Racing alongside him was a large brown dog. A bull mastiff perhaps? Phineas didn't care. He claimed to boast plenty of teeth marks to back up his general dislike for the slobbering creatures. Twenty feet behind them was a police Constable angrily waving his baton. Phineas didn't know whom he wanted to win this race, the unfortunate pickpocket and his mutt, or the crooked law official. He rooted for the child and laughed aloud when he knocked over a block of ice and slid down an alley to his freedom.

The officer skidded, and then teetered over the icy shards until he landed on his behind in a muddy, soaking mess. A slew of foul words escaped him and he vowed to catch up to the boy next time. Phineas opened his window and peered closer at the alley. He noticed the boy gazing upward in his direction with resolute, dark eyes, as if committing his building to memory.

Phineas waved and then closed his window and turned to his table. He didn't want the boy to think he could run to him for refuge. He knew where he came from – a rotten gang of street hooligans from the Lower East side that preyed on the wealthy. Phineas wasn't about to become one of their victims. His conscience bothered him. The apartment would be a perfectly safe haven for the boy in this storm, but he couldn't jeopardize his plans. Work still called for him, but sleep also beckoned. Phineas ruffled his sandy-colored hair and packed up his supplies for the evening with a wry smile.

"One day, very soon, I will no longer be a prisoner of time…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Prisoners of Time: Origins Reborn**

**Story I  
**

**Chapter 2**

There was nothing for him to do on the streets except watch carriages ramble by and rain soaked ladies and gentlemen run for cover into their warm apartments. He kept his back to the brick wall under a crumbling awning and hung around a few extra minutes, just in case the police Constable was lying in wait.

"I'm glad I put on a nice show for that guy up there." He muttered. The young man at the window had left after the cop fell down. He pulled out a small crumpled paper and read the address.

"2020 42nd Street 5th Avenue…_aww no!_ That's the Bogg Manor!" Jeffrey slapped his forehead. It had to have been Bogg who had seen him from the window, but hopefully the rain had obscured his view. He was Jeffrey's next _assignment._

His stomach rumbled. He dug into his inner coat lining and pulled out a pocket watch he had lifted a few weeks before. It was a quarter past eight. The boys started their evening meal at the top of the hour. All he would be left with was scraps and bones. He clutched his dog's leash when he whimpered.

"Poor Ralph…I know, you're hungry too, boy. Maybe we can go wait by some of the restaurant alleys, they're always tossing good stuff out."

The important thing was that he obtained the wallet. He had been spying out the banker for two days before he made the pinch. He still hadn't counted the money, he didn't want it to blow away in the storm or get drenched and unusable in the rain. _'Kosher'_ King-Ray gave explicit instructions to his boys not to handle the goods until he looked them over. He had a sharp eye and would know if anything was trifled with.

'_Poor Jimmy…'_ Jeffrey sniffled. _'He was brave!'_

Jimmy O'Grady, also known as _'Jimmy crack-corn,'_ was the last boy who crossed King-Ray. Jimmy was fifteen and growing tired of living under the crime lord's iron thumb. He didn't want to be part of the gang's illegal acts and confronted King-Ray in front of the other boys. Jimmy soon after disappeared and was later found face down in the East River. The police made very few inquiries; they were too busy with their political scandals and corruptions to care about the life of one more useless immigrant from an Irish slum house.

Jeffrey Jones wasn't an immigrant. He had been born and raised in this city and knew it like the back of his eleven year-old hand. King-Ray found him wandering the streets alone and enticed him into the abandoned warehouse where the other boys were kept. By that time, Jeffrey was starving and terrified and he readily agreed to take shelter. King-Ray saw his intelligence and used him to the full, sending him on all sorts of errands and pocket jobs. Jeffrey drew out maps of the city and scouted out the locations where wealth flourished for the more experienced pickpockets.

Jeffrey was oftentimes deeply ashamed of the things he did with the _'Hester Street Kings.'_ He imagined the disappointment and humiliation he would have brought to his parents had they still been alive. They had such high hopes for him, to go on and study history at Oxford University, and perhaps become a scholar like his father, William. Whatever goals they had died with them in a fiery accident that still haunted Jeffrey's dreams.

Jeffrey sighed and put the pocket watch and paper away. He clutched Ralph's frayed leash and scolded him for chewing on it. Ralph was an insanely loyal dog and even if Jeffrey didn't hold the leash, he would follow him.

"Come on, boy. We'll find something to eat."

Jeffrey kept close to the buildings, watching out for the police, but no one paid him any mind. He passed a block lined with restaurants. Diners trickled in and the food aromas wafted through his senses. The smell alone somewhat appeased his growling stomach. He passed by a more upscale restaurant and pressed his face against the glass. He had his eye on a happy family in the back, and grew teary as he watched the mother stroke her son's hand and laugh while they decided on what to order. The father's proud gaze touched his heart too. He remembered how often his father would look at him the same.

Before the owners could shoo him away, Jeffrey hung his head and continued on until he reached the alley. He found a crate with vegetables and other vittles and took as much as he could before he was caught. The stuff was going straight to the trash, but yet they wouldn't allow someone hungry to take it. Sometimes the world made no sense to him.

He had to get back to Hester Street. King-Ray would be waiting for the spoils. He gave Ralph a half carved whole chicken to gnaw on after shoving a few choice pieces in his mouth. Jeffrey was exhausted; his shoes squished as he trudged along, and the water seeped through the worn soles and chilled his feet. He tried to avoid the muddy puddles from some of the as yet unpaved sidewalks. Tomorrow was a new day. He needed to rest his legs if he was going to do more tail work. In his travels he had spied on Mr. Bogg. the man walked super fast, and was always preoccupied. Jeffrey knew, that even though Mr. Bogg acted oblivious to the goings on around him, he was sharp as a tack.

"I have to be sharper, Ralph. I hope he don't have moths in his wallet! At least we got his address. When he's gone maybe there's a way to get in…but I can't do that unless King tells me. I don't know, I'll have to scope him out first. He's not a weakling like Farnsworth the lawyer was."

Jeffrey often found himself talking to Ralph like he was a human being. The dog was his only companion left in the pitiless city. Sometimes at night, Jeffrey would go up to the roof of the warehouse and just gaze at the stars. He marveled at their brilliance and his imagination soared. He wondered what it would be like to voyage beyond them. When he was up there, he was able to look further than the lifeless, stone buildings and see real foliage and hills. In the summertime, Jeffrey found himself sleeping up there. It was far too noisy below. The rowdy boys and dirty adults were always yelling and teasing one another with the same foul words over and over. How long was he going to have to hear about what people did in their privies and on their beds? The useless chatter him awake many nights. On the rooftop, however, he was immune to distractions and in his own private world.

When his parents were alive, they used to travel often and Jeffrey loved it. He kept his fanciful memories to himself. Cynicism had wormed its way into the other boys' hearts. All they knew and cared about was the day-to-day struggle to make a living, or just to eat a meal. Most of the immigrants he encountered in this neighborhood were disillusioned with their dreams of a better land and they longed to be home again.

**~V~**

Jeffrey longed to have a real family again…or at least a friend he could trust. In this city everyone walked swiftly with their eyes forward, lest they see the reality of the poor and hungry souls trying to eke out a living off to the sides. Jeffrey didn't hate Manhattan, there was a lot to love, but all his recent encounters left much to be desired. Jeffrey stopped walking and dropped to his knees a few blocks from the warehouse. He found a deserted corner and clung to Ralph's neck and just cried. Ralph gazed at him with sad eyes and wagged his tongue and licked his face, but that was the extent of the comfort he could give his master.

"I wanna run away again! I can't take this anymore…I hate this world! I hate this place…I feel like a prisoner. I wish…I wish I could go back and save them, Ralph! I wish I could just make time stand still!"

Jeffrey rubbed his nose and face into Ralph's damp fur. He had gotten a free bath in the rain, but now he smelled bad. King-Ray would never let him into their quarters like this. Jeffrey took him around to the back of the warehouse, where he had set up a large tent for him. He tied his leash to a window gate and patted his head. Ralph licked his hand and then lowered himself on his forepaws.

"Goodnight boy. Thanks for listening. I love you."

Jeffrey wiped his eyes and forced himself to keep his tears in check. He didn't need to hear the other boys call him a crybaby again. He couldn't help his sensitivity. He actually cared about what happened to others in the world around him. He approached the back entrance to the squat, hideous building and rapped loud three times. A slight fear passed from head to toe. He always felt it when he came here. The red door swung open and a grimy hand dragged him inside. It was Chester Goldwyn, one of the nicer boys of the gang. He pulled Jeffrey to a darkened corner and re-lit his oil lamp.

"It's about time you showed up, Jeff. King's waitin.' Did you get McDougall's wallet?"

"Yeah…you know, I still have that funny pocket watch. I'm gonna keep it. It's unique. But don't say anything about it. Here!"

Jeffrey handed him a set of gold cuff links and Chester drew a line across his lips.

"Oh yeah, that's the one that has that name 'Drake' on it, right? It looks more like a compass to me, but as long as it tells time."

"Yeah, it's very accurate. I checked it off the bank clocks. Man, that guy was mean looking, but I don't think he saw me."

Chester shook his head and laughed. Jeffrey always marveled at his shiny, yellowed teeth and the scores of freckles splashed across his face.

"That's your problem, Jeff. You always linger too long. I know why, it's that old conscience bothering you. Ya hafta let it go! We have a job to do."

Jeffrey walked ahead of him. _"Nuh uh_, Chester…if I had a _job_, I wouldn't be stealing from other people."

"You're too young yet, anyways." Chester sneered. "I saved ya some supper, day old pork chop and half a potato. It's the best I could do." The boy always ignored you and changed the subject when he felt you were moralizing.

"Sure, thanks, Ches."

A loud bang interrupted the conversation and Jeffrey gulped and jumped back. King-Ray stormed toward him. His long, patchwork coat trailed behind him and his ruddy cheeks and long, bulbous nose were inflamed with anger. He had been drinking heavy tonight, but it wasn't much different from any other evening. King-Ray looked twice his age at forty-five. He was a self-proclaimed drunkard and substance abuser, and often got the other boys hooked as well.

"It's about time you showed up! Give it over!"

Jeffrey dug into each pocket and placed two wallets, a ruby ring, a topaz necklace, and a hefty bankbook into King-Ray's outstretched, broad hand. King opened the wallet and bank book and counted out the money.

"Not bad, over three hundred dollars in here!" He bit on the ring and smacked his lips. _"Ehh_…this is pyrite…the gem is probably fake too, but I'll give it to Sissy, she couldn't tell a real from a fake if it bit her on her lumpy tuchis!" He snatched the necklace and shoved it in his own pocket. "This will look darling on my Eunice! She's always yapping about how much I take and don't give." He sniggered.

Jeffrey waited for the rest of his instructions; however, he noticed that King was angered again.

"Well, where are the Bogg goods?"

"What are ya talking about? That's tomorrow, King." Jeffrey blurted out and then covered his mouth. King-Ray hated impudence.

King-Ray slapped his cheek. _"Feh!_ You rotten little shagetz! I told you Bogg was on the list tonight!"

Jeffrey hurried to find the paper with Bogg's address and he glanced at the date. He closed his eyes and slumped his shoulders. King-Ray was right as usual. He stood tall again.

"Please, King! I'm so tired. I promise, tomorrow I'll get everything I can."

King-Ray shook his head and shoved him toward his sleeping quarters. It was four makeshift timbers with threadbare sheets to pull over for privacy.

"I don't want everything! You know what I want! Now, you change your wet shoes and socks and get yourself back out there!"

"But Mr. King! Bogg's lights were out, he may have went to bed early."

King-Ray grabbed Jeffrey by the back of his neck and pushed him past the sheets.

"_Vei is mir!_ I don't care! Tonight is your big night! You're gonna go on your first break in!"


	3. Chapter 3

**Prisoners of Time: Origins Reborn**

**Story I  
**

**Chapter 3**

The rusty, black carriage raced across Midtown with Jeffrey trembling inside and the nineteen-year-old so-called leader of the boys, Mikey Dolan, in the driver's seat. Mikey was a brutal young man, and whipped his horses until they bled. Jeffrey often wondered if he was responsible for Jimmy's death. Mikey did whatever the King wanted for a small price and he showed little remorse when they heard the news of Jimmy's murder. King-Ray made it painfully clear that Jeffrey was to go into the apartment alone and take the most valuable thing Bogg owned, a small black book.

Jeffrey had decided he did not want to steal from the young man; there was something good-natured about Mr. Bogg that he admired. And he hated to make any more enemies. They got you nothing but jailed and often times, dead. However, King-Ray yanked at his dark curls and twisted his ears and arms, until Jeffrey finally agreed to complete his task.

The rains and thunder subsided and the clouds parted to reveal pale moonlight. It created a hazy, ethereal effect across the city when it bounced off the water droplets and puddles. Jeffrey tried to keep his focus on the view, rather than his assignment. Mikey halted his carriage a block away from the apartment and tied up the reigns to a street post.

"I'd come wit ya, Jeffy, but I don't want anyone thievin' our horse and buggy, it's all we got!"

Jeffrey jumped off the carriage. He adjusted his blue cap low over his brow and then buried his hands into his pockets; he was still very cold from being caught in the rainstorm. He raised his shoulders and lowered his chin into his chest for more warmth. He glanced up at his leader. Mikey was tall and appeared lanky, but he possessed a lot of strength and speed. Jeffrey tried to read his expression under the faint glow of the lamplight. Mikey was also a reputed liar and even bragged of murder. Jeffrey didn't want to cross him.

"It's alright Mikey, they'll be less of a chance someone gets caught with only one of us…just stay right here! Don't leave me hanging, okay?" He whispered, offering small grins to nosy passerby.

Mikey leaned against the lamppost and twirled a toothpick around his mouth. He shrugged. King-Ray demanded that two always went together for a break-in, but he was just lazy.

"Alright, fraidy cat! Just do it already! We don't want King-Ray to be waitin' on ya too long. Then we _all _hafta suffer…and I don't wanna take no scat from him. If I do_, someone_ _else _will pay even harder." He warned. Mikey removed a small switch knife from his pocket and picked at his dirty fingernails with a dark smile, his real meaning was not lost on Jeffrey.

Jeffrey agreed and turned to leave, however, Mikey grasped his arm and pulled him back. He bent down until he was face to face with him and his rancid breath made Jeffrey want to gag. "You listen good you little Guinea! If you tell the King that you went on alone, I'll hack you to pieces and have them chink pancake faces on Pell Street put you in their chow mein!"

Mikey shook Jeffrey up and swiped his knife in blunt strokes near his face for added effect. He was horribly offensive to all nationalities but would cut you down if you dared call him a 'Mick.'

Jeffrey was at a loss for words. He nodded and as soon as Mikey loosened his grip, he took off down the block. Mikey pretended to check out his wagon wheels and groom his horse to throw off suspicion. Mr. Bogg lived in a hectic part of the city and the streets still swarmed with people. He wondered if the kid would make it out alive. They had purposely given him a hard assignment to see if he had the guts to be a real Hester Street King. Mr. Bogg appeared peculiar and harmless on his daily jaunts about Midtown, but even Mikey knew, the man was not one to be trifled with.

**~V~**

Jeffrey couldn't get in through the front of the elegant beige building, so he rushed to the rear and examined the areas of entry. Sure enough, he counted four white painted fire escapes that traveled up the length of the building. Jeffrey jumped up, but he couldn't reach the first ladder. He found an old stack of newspapers tied with rope and he used it for added height. He reached up again, straining upon his toes. His fingers were just able to grasp the last rung. He yanked, and it came sliding down, almost too fast. Jeffrey kicked off the stack and clung to the ladder, his feet dangled five inches off the ground.

"Nobody said this was going to be easy." He complained.

He climbed as fast as he could, hoping he wouldn't slip. He decided to start his search from the top floor, where he noticed that no candles or electric lights flickered. That was where Bogg had watched him earlier. On a prior inspection of the building from a distance, this room was some sort of workshop and not Bogg's bedroom. He tried to push the window, but it was locked tight. He gazed around. A moonbeam slid across the windowpane and cast a golden glow on a large mechanical device situated in the center of the room. Jeffrey's jaw dropped. It was unlike any contraption he had ever seen.

Jeffrey fumbled through his coat and pulled out his 'Red Devil', a brand new pivot wheel glass-cutter that King-Ray gave to each boy after they accomplished their first pilfer. He went to work and within a few minutes had carved a near-perfect hole. He had to be very careful with the next part. He slightly edged the glass through the hole and when it was about to drop, grasped the bottom of it without it scraping his palms. King-Ray had them all practice this maneuver over and over and Jeffrey had a few small scars to prove it. He turned out to be the most meticulous of the boys when it came to lock picking, glass cutting, and tapping into locked safes. He pulled the circular glass out and placed it on the fire escape, then put his hand through the hole and lifted the window latch.

Jeffrey crawled inside the room and took out a small box of matches. He struck the flint and raised the flame at eye level. It certainly was a workshop, with a massive library of books in the far corner and drafting tables covered over with blue prints and sketches. Various toolboxes, kits, and doohickey parts lay strewn beside these tables. The room was sparsely furnished and he saw a cot on the left side and a small, square wooden table used for eating. Jeffrey went up to the table and saw half of a smoked ham and provolone cheese sandwich. He slathered it with some mustard from the little silver pot and commenced eating. It hit his hunger spot, because he gave his pork chop to Ralph before he left.

Jeffrey was in awe with the contraption; at first glance he believed it was made of solid gold. If he obtained just a few chips of that, he would have been able to flee the city and his life of crime forever. Upon closer scrutiny with another lighted match, he was disenchanted that it was actually made of polished brass. It was globe shaped and it looked almost familiar to him. He pulled out the silver pocket watch and held it up alongside it. They were very similar in structure; only Bogg's contraption was life-size and had an actual seating area centered within the two rounded halves. Jeffrey forgot about his assignment and stroked his hand across the red leather seating.

"This is so amazing! I wonder what it does?"

He climbed on the seat and sank comfortably within it. At his feet were foot rests with straps. He looked alongside the chair. There was room for another, but also within the area was a round apparatus with filtering holes and small gauges attached to it. It might have been an engine of sorts. His eyes widened as he examined the unusual control board in front of the seat. A counter ran across a brass plate with a section for the day, month, year, and the exact time. The numbers were all set to zero. He looked at the pocket watch once more, although the design was different, there were dials that encircled the small globe and provided the same information.

"This can't be a coincidence. They're almost the same machine – life size and miniature!"

Alongside these intricate dials on his watch were tiny ball bearings so the user could get a grip and turn them. Next to Bogg's counter, lay an elaborately designed stick of brass with a chiseled emerald decoratively placed at the head. It resembled the top half of walking sticks that old, cantankerous, rich men used to swat people away. Jeffrey peered at the shape and then stuck it into the opening beside the counter.

"I get it! This piece controls the dates and time!" He said excited, but then hushed himself, hoping that Bogg didn't awaken.

Above the counter were two abnormal sized glass bulbs. The bulb on the left was green like a banker's lamp, and the bulb on the right was blood red. He had seen that red hue in objectionable places within the seedy areas of his neighborhood. They certainly attracted many men to them, including the older boys in the gang. King-Ray made it a _rite of passage_ for them.

Jeffrey continued his observations. The hairs on his arms stood up and goose pimples speckled his entire body. He was very curious to know the machine's purpose. To the right of the chair was a long, pearl handled crank, which was likely used to power it up. He turned around and studied the outer shell, it almost resembled a metallic silver and brass windmill and Jeffrey surmised that if he were to turn on the machine, the rotors would spin clockwise and counter clockwise at the same time.

It had a circular opening in its center and he saw the opposite shell was of the exact design. The apertures were directly aligned to the globe shaped apparatus within. Jeffrey reached up and placed his hand over the emerald, he gave it a small push. When he pushed it up, the numbers on the date and day went higher. He tested it down, and the numbers traced backwards from thirty-one to zero, Sunday to Monday. He moved the handle to the left and the months started from January to December. He moved it right and it adjusted the actual time of day or evening.

Jeffrey shook with delight. He was getting a small suspicion over what the instrument might be.

"I bet Bogg built this so he could…_ travel through the ages!_ That would be so fun! He could do anything and change anything…_he_…"

A wave of sadness enveloped him and he found himself pushing the lever until the counter read August 24th 1881, 9:00pm. It was the exact date and a half-hour before the time his parents were killed in a locomotive wreck when they returned from a camping excursion in the Canadian wilderness. His father was an avid scholar and professor, but he was also a rugged outdoors man. Jeffrey sat back and folded his arms. He squeezed his eyes shut to stop his weeping. Could this be possible? Mr. Bogg was an inventor; maybe he had discovered time's secrets. Jeffrey wrapped his hand around the long crank beside the chair. There was only one way to find out.


	4. Chapter 4

**Prisoners of Time: Origins Reborn**

**Story I  
**

**Chapter 4**

Phineas jerked himself up in his master bed. He fumbled out of the Surrey quilt his mother had stitched for him as a child. He had been awakened by a series of noises. They weren't just any noises you would hear from the active city, they were coming from within his home. He could nearly feel the intrusion. The hairs along his arms tingled and a low, resonant hum built up into his ears. He leaped from the bed and looked underneath. He grabbed for a weapon.

"Smoking bat's breath! My omnichron!"

Phineas disregarded his robe and slippers and raced barefoot and bare-chested down the hallway and up the hidden spiral staircase to the fourth floor. High frequency beams of blue light emitted from underneath the doorway to his workshop. He rushed inside and gasped upon seeing a child at the helm of his invention. The boy was terrified as the omnichron's propellers whirled to life. The electro-magnetic time field slowly enveloped him in a giant bubble-like vortex. Phineas dropped his weapon. He shielded his eyes and thrust himself within the bubble, feeling the powerful magnetism wrench every muscle in his body. He grunted and tugged on the crank with two hands. He put all his strength into it and dragged it back as far as it could go. He grabbed the emerald handle and pulled it from the setting.

The fans slowed and the lights zapped back into place, leaving them in darkness. Phineas sank to his knees in a cold sweat, and draped his body over the crank. The boy was astonished and eventually turned to face him. They glared at each other for a moment. Jeffrey felt that the same exact blue lights would eject from Phineas Bogg's blue eyes and burn him to a crisp at any second.

Phineas found his bearings and jumped up. He pulled Jeffrey by his collar and shoved him as far away from the machine as possible. Jeffrey cowered, expecting to get the beating of his life. He covered his face and chest with his arms and hands and whimpered.

"Please don't hurt me! I'm sorry! _I'm really sorry!_ I wanted to see what it could do! I want to go back! I want to save my parents!" He cried aloud and removed his hands from his blood-shot eyes.

Phineas was staggered. His expression softened and he was awash with pity. It was the same boy. He was looking into the somber doe eyes of the little pickpocket that had eluded the police. The child had somehow figured out the machine's capabilities. He was much more intelligent than Phineas thought.

"No boy, you can't go back…you can't change that. What's passed is…the past." He mumbled softly.

He glanced at the machine again and a slow rage built up within him, but it was tempered with fear of what could have happened to the child. He could have been vaporized within the time vortex since all the gauges were not set accordingly. Phineas grunted and within seconds, Jeffrey was face to face with the sharp edge of a metallic black and gold crossbow.

"Hey! Don't hurt me! I said I was sorry! It was a mistake! Honest!"

"Do you realize what you could have done?" Phineas shouted at him. "This machine is not finished! It hasn't been tested! You could have killed yourself! You could have killed me!"

Jeffrey came out of his shock and glowered at him. "What…what is that thing? What does it do? Does it go through time? Please! I have to know!"

Phineas' fingers curled tighter over the crossbow trigger. "That's for _me_ to know…and for _you_ to mind your own business! What are you doing in my apartment? Who sent you here?" He demanded. "I want answers, boy!"

Jeffrey shivered. He could never squeal on any of the gang or else he would pay the ultimate price. He stood his ground.

"That's for _me_ to know and for _you_ to mind _your_ own business!" He retorted and mocked Phineas' deep voice.

"Why you little devil! I aughta toss you over my knee and whap ya till ya can't sit for a year!" Phineas wagged the crossbow at him; the boy didn't realize that it was not loaded.

"Go ahead and try!" Jeffrey challenged. "Your hand will fall off first before I feel a thing!" He really wanted Phineas to drop the weapon away from his head.

If Jeffrey was going to escape, it had to be now. However, he couldn't go empty handed.

_Something small and valuable. The black book.  
_

His gaze happened upon an end table and he saw the worn, book that Phineas Bogg cherished. Who knew what secrets it held? Perhaps it had the bank account numbers to his entire fortune. King-Ray and Mikey wouldn't tell him the contents. There was no time to waste. Jeffrey's lower lip trembled and he burst into tears, throwing Phineas off guard again. For someone so harsh when angered, he had a compassionate heart.

Jeffrey felt remorse for what he was going to do next. Phineas put his hand out to him in friendly gesture. Jeffrey came forward and Phineas inched closer. Jeffrey heaved his shoulders and closed his eyes. He thrust out his foot and kicked Phineas in the shin as hard as he could.

Phineas let out a shout of pain. He jumped around and grabbed his right shin. Jeffrey bowled him over and bounded to the table across the room. He was thankful it was close to the window. He snatched the black book and shoved it in his coat. Phineas recovered and raised his crossbow as a scare tactic again, but then he saw him take the book. A look of pure sadness and anxiety flitted across his brow and his face turned up in a snarl. He forgot his pains and hopped over a footrest to make chase.

"Don't you _dare _take that! I need that book! Give it back to me, _now!" _

His powerful voice reverberated across the room. Jeffrey ignored him and jumped through the window, rolling onto the fire escape. Phineas lunged for him. Jeffrey tottered forward and was about to fall over the landing.

"_Aughh!_ Please help me!" He screamed.

Phineas threw out his arms and wrapped himself around Jeffrey. They both fell onto their knees and curled upon the grating. He felt the boy's heart thudding through his clothing and he loosened his hold just slightly.

"I got you now! You give me my book! We can talk about this. I don't want to have to hurt you!"

Jeffrey struggled. "Then don't, you big lummox! I'm just a kid!" Without thinking too much about it, Jeffrey bit down hard on Phineas' forearm. Phineas released him and grasped the small wound.

"_ARR!_ You are so dead, you little, _rotten toad!"_

Jeffrey climbed down the ladders two rungs at a time and jumped off. He landed in a large puddle and gazed up. Phineas did not make chase. Instead, he grasped the edges of the fire escape so hard, his knuckles whitened. He stared down with a look of pure revenge that chilled Jeffrey's bones.

"You are mine, kid! Do you hear me?"

"You have to catch me first, you _bogg_le head!" Jeffrey shouted, running out from the back of the building. He waved down Mikey from the corner to get the carriage set up. Phineas' voice echoed after him, bouncing off the brick buildings and startling onlookers.

"Oh I will! _I most certainly will!_ You and all your dirty friends will pay for this! They will pay for everything they have ever stolen! I will see to that promptly! _I never lie!_ I am a man of my word!"

**~V~**

Phineas climbed back inside and slammed the window down so hard, the glass cracked within the frame. He picked up his crossbow, then hurried to his bedroom. A few lights went on throughout the house and he knew Ramona had been awakened. He slammed the door behind him. Within ten minutes Ramona scurried to his door and rapped quickly. She had made a quick check around the rest of the apartment with a large frying pan at the ready to whack intruders.

"Master Bogg! Phineas! Wha' has happened? Wha' is all tha' ruckus? Are ye hurt, my boy?"

Phineas' door flew open and Ramona stumbled backward. She covered her mouth with a trembling hand. Her master had an angry scowl upon his face and was clothed in attire she was rarely accustomed to seeing him in. He was dressed in a sepia toned and lightweight leather trench coat with brass buckles running down the length on either side from underneath the wide lapel collars. His dark beige pants were of similar material and padded at the groin and the knees for a measure of protection. Dark brown boots rode up his calves and she noticed he had concealed two daggers within each of them. He wore a tan leather vest over his billowing white shirt with a thick golden chain attached at the center for design and more secret weaponry. Phineas was a fascinating sight to behold. He was all at once striking and ruggedly masculine, ready to take on the world with his physical prowess and creative devices.

"I'm absolutely _fine, _my lass. I'm just going to get back my property." He brushed past her to his workshop. "The works of those Hester Kings are gonna end tonight!"

Phineas halted before his bookcase and pulled a certain novel out of place. The bookcase swung open to reveal a wall of intrinsically designed weapons and gadgets. He removed a thick brown belt off the blue velvet cushion. It was entwined with strips of red and green threading and it had a spread-winged eagle buckle in the center. Small pouches encircled his belt to conceal various implements of Phineas invented. He cinched it around his lean waist, then reached up and pulled down four arrows for his crossbow. He loaded it and put it on an automatic setting, then draped the wide strap over his shoulder.

Ramona grasped his arm. "Oh Phin! Please donna tell me you're going to…"

Phineas managed a little smile. "Don't you worry yourself, Ramona. It may not even come to that. I'm not a killer. I'm just going to put the fear of a Voyager into them." He vowed.

Ramona stepped away and threw her hands up. "Since when are Voyagers leather clad vigilantes, me wonders?"

Phineas pulled on a pair of gloves that matched his trench coat and lifted the head of his father's bust beside the library. The bookcase closed over his hidden artillery.

"Since they chose _me_ to be one, dear Ramona. I have to protect this secret at all costs, before it falls into the wrong hands. I fear it may already have." Phineas noted grimly, thinking of Voyager Drake.

The secret tool Drake had stolen from the Voyager Academy had to do with the clandestine project Phineas was working on. The professors demanded the renegade be caught and after careful consideration, they implored Phineas to help find him and bring him to their tribunal for justice. The actual goal of the Voyager Academy had not quite been achieved with humans before Drake had stolen the silver gadget.

All the Voyager graduates eagerly anticipated their future assignments, but were disheartened to learn of the theft. Phineas boldly volunteered to be the first subject tested. Once Phineas convinced them he was the right man for the job, the Academy gave him detailed instructions and exact blueprints on how to build the first ever device they called…_a time machine._

Phineas was going to find that little boy no matter how long it took him. He knew exactly where to start. Right at the namesake of the 'Hester Street Kings.' It was not so much the boy that Phineas blamed for all the crime, but rather his evil teachers. They were ultimately responsible for the malicious activities that were going on around the city. Phineas adjusted a few buckles and stalked to the doorway. He glanced at Ramona somberly.

"I'm taking Blaze with the saddle. There's no time to hitch up my carriage. Lock up the apartment as best you can and keep as many lamps and bulbs burning as possible. I don't want anyone from that dreadful gang making their way back here. I know some of them can be very dangerous."

Phineas went to his drafting table and lifted it, he pulled out a small pistol and placed it Ramona's hands. She backed away.

"Oh no, no, I canna take that, gun!"

"I know you are not a stranger to these, so wipe that shocked look off your face. You know how I feel about guns, but this is for _your _protection while I'm gone. If you must shoot, go for the kneecaps. It will disable the prowler and there will be no need to kill them. I must go _now._ That book…that guidebook is everything to the Voyager cause…at the very least, to _my _cause. It contains all that I've worked so hard to achieve. I can't lose it._"_

"Please, Phin, take care, donna hurt yourself."

Phineas kissed the top of Ramona's white bun and left her. He ran out to his stable alongside the building. Blaze whinnied from inside. She kicked up hay and knocked over her oat bucket. She was happy to see her owner. Phineas stroked her black hair and then adjusted the saddle over her strapping chestnut body. He fed her a few sugar cubes to get her blood pumping. She was going to need all her energy for this gallop. Blaze responded favorably to him and nuzzled her long face against his chest. Phineas laughed when her hairs tickled him and he climbed atop her.

"Let's go girl! We have a job to do."

He dug his spur against her middle with a sharp kick. Blaze whinnied louder and reared up on her hind legs. She soon felt her master's gentle guidance on the reigns and ran off into the misty night.


	5. Chapter 5

**Prisoners of Time: Origins Reborn**

**Story I**

**Chapter 5**

When Jeffrey and Mikey returned to the warehouse, King-Ray was nowhere to be seen. Chester told them he was gallivanting around the neighborhood with his drinking buddies and lady friends. Jeffrey hurried to his bunk. The other boys were off doing their own things and paid him little mind, though they were curious as to what occurred at Bogg Manor. Jeffrey couldn't understand it. No one told him anything, but it seemed like the Hester Street gang had a run-in with Phineas Bogg before…and that they regretted it. Mikey was in a very sour mood, but told everyone that the King would handle things accordingly. He looked forward to being an eyewitness. He was a glutton for other people's punishment.

Jeffrey huddled up against the cold brick wall in his small quarters. He was deathly afraid. He pulled Phineas' black book from inside his coat pocket. An unfathomable remorse had struck him when he escaped in the carriage and before Mikey could ask, he had blurted out that he didn't have the chance to find anything because Phineas nearly captured him.

"I'm so dead now. King-Ray is going to have my hide worse than this Bogg guy ever threatened to!"

Although he had enraged the young inventor, Jeffrey had an assured confidence that Bogg wouldn't really hurt him in any manner. King-Ray on the other hand, was prone to outrageous fits and he would pick an unsuspecting gang member to vent his wrath, not to mention destroy what little furnishings they had in the warehouse. Jeffrey often called it a 'deathtrap.' Dry papers and wood, rotted crates and books, and old, moldy sheets made the place a severe fire hazard. Nobody seemed to care; they were content to have a roof over their heads when the winter set in.

Jeffrey lit his small oil lamp and thumbed through the pages. It was a mess of equations and scientific facts. Bogg's notes were everywhere. He found himself having to turn the book upside down and sideways just to read them and that made him giggle. Wherever Bogg found a blank area to write, he left his scrawl. When he thumbed towards the back he noticed a diary beginning from the spring of 1879. He could tell the book had been bound over a few times with added pages. Jeffrey's heart went out to Phineas Bogg when he read the opening paragraph. On the water-stained page, Phineas disclosed his deep anguish over watching his beloved mother succumb to disease, and his mourning for his lost father in a violent sea storm just a few months before her. Jeffrey traced his fingers over the stains, they were most likely from Bogg's tears.

"Just because you're wealthy, doesn't mean you have it all." Jeffrey pondered and moved ahead a few pages. He hated to dwell on any kind of death.

He found preliminary sketches of the large device. Phineas had drawn his vision, then underneath listed all the parts and materials he would need to create it. Arrows pointed out in every direction of the sketch, and each one was labeled. Jeffrey enjoyed the journal. He just had to find out what it was really all about and felt that if he read through it cover to cover, all of Bogg's secrets would be revealed. He settled down to read the first entry and after the fifth his mind was opened up to the most fantastic possibilities a man could imagine. His guess had been correct. Phineas Bogg was attempting to build a time travel device, which he patented, an _'omnichron.'_

Jeffrey hungered to learn more about the mysterious Voyager Academy Bogg attended, but he had to stop reading. King-Ray returned. His voice was thick with intoxication. Jeffrey scrambled to put the book back into his coat lining. He did not want to leave it lying around. King-Ray headed toward his section furious. Within seconds, the blankets were ripped from the timbers.

"You! You mongrel! _Schlecht yutzi shagetz! Shande!_ Bogg will ruin me! I ask you to do one simple thing and now…"

King-Ray couldn't even finish his words. He was going to pay dearly for not completing this mission. He had promised Drake the book and failed. Drake had warned him the consequence would be beyond his wildest imaginings. Spittle flew out of King-Ray's mouth as he cursed Jeffrey in Yiddish. Jeffrey backed away from him but King-Ray attacked him and dragged him out by his hair. The other boys watched frightened and Jeffrey saw Mikey in a darkened corner wearing a sly smile. He had squealed on him. Jeffrey tore himself out of King-Ray's grasp after punching him hard in the gut. King-Ray lurched forward and vomit gurgled out of his mouth. He roared and attempted to grab him again.

"I will kill you for that! I will not stand for this disrespect from you, you gutter trash!"

"Leave me alone! _I hate you!_ I hate working for you! I'm not a thief! I'm not like you!" Jeffrey shouted. He had only one thing on his mind now, to return Bogg's journal and beg forgiveness…then beg him to take him as an apprentice.

Jeffrey took off to make an escape. The other gang members suddenly turned fiercely loyal to King-Ray and closed in on him, they blocked both the front and back entrances.

_"Did you see that? He hit King-Ray!"_

_"Nobody hits the King and gets away with it!"_

_"He can join Jimmy at the bottom of the river!"_

_"Get him! Tear him apart! The show-off! Cry-baby!"_

Jeffrey ran through the stairwell doors. He clamored as fast as he could up the flight of steps toward his one place of solace – the rooftop. King-Ray, Mikey, and a few of the older gang members followed at his heels. Nobody noticed in the fray that Jeffrey's oil lamp had fallen over and the sparks of fire were ignited.

**~V~**

Ralph poked his wet nose from his tent and perked up his ears. There was a lot of noise in the building. He heard his master's panicked cries from above. Ralph had to help him. He barked and chewed his way through the remaining frayed ends of his leash. The dog raced out into the streets howling and was nearly crushed by a galloping, red horse. The horse reared itself, almost throwing off its owner.

"Woah, Blaze! Back! _Woah!_"

Blaze heeded her rider's command. Phineas trotted her to the rear of the warehouse. Ralph was going crazy around him. He jumped and pawed at his legs until he dismounted. The dog smelled his master upon this man. He barked and kept turning his head upward. Phineas wanted to kick him away, but he sensed the mutt was trying to communicate. It didn't take long for him to understand when he heard the boy's distressed wails filter down from the roof.

"Get away from me! Help me! _Somebody_ _help me!"_

The more vicious members of the Hester Street gang had backed the boy into a corner. Phineas felt a tingle of panic. He couldn't let him be hurt. A pungent odor struck him and there came a loud crashing noise over his head. Phineas ducked as shards of glass sprinkled into the alley. An old chair and numerous crates went sailing through the windows and plumes of black smoke forced its way out. Flames licked their way up higher.

"This is just great!" Phineas rumbled. "More trouble!"

The warehouse was burning down and he saw the remaining gang members scrambling out and choking for fresh air. They screamed for a fire engine. They carried as much loot as they could hold and most of them made a break for it. They were finally free of King-Ray's tyrannical leadership. The boy's dog barked and made his way up the fire escape exits to save his master.

"Hey you dumb dog! Get back down!"

The dog paid Phineas no mind and huffed. He sprinted up the metal stepladders.

"Now the boy's definitely trapped! There's no way out!"

Phineas tugged Blaze away from the building and tied her to a post on the opposite side of the street so she wouldn't be hurt. He ran back to the warehouse and stood a few feet from the back wall. He flicked open his coat and pulled out a copper grapnel gun. He aimed, and pushed in the clamp. A high-tensile wire shot out and talon-shaped metal claws on the front end attached itself to a sturdy brick surface.

Phineas tugged, keeping his grip on the clamp, and propelled upward to the roof. He prepared his body for a somersault and rolled onto the landing, coming to a full standing position. He pressed hard on the clamp and the talons opened and the cable reverted back into the gun. Phineas latched it onto the inside of his coat and strode toward the gang with his loaded crossbow raised.

"Get away from him! Now!"

Some of the boys took heed and ran for their lives. Others lingered, but no longer cornered Jeffrey. There was nowhere to run and people in the streets shouted at them. A group of men held open a large bed quilt and called for them to jump. Jeffrey peeked down. It was much too high for anyone to take the risk. The inferno would soon reach them and the roof was bound to cave in at some point. Jeffrey saw his dog running in his direction.

_"Ralph! _Stay back! Go away, boy!"

The dog leaped onto Mikey, who menaced Jeffrey the most. They fell into a struggle and rolled across the landing.

"Get this dirty beast away from me!" Mikey screamed, trying to protect his face from Ralph's sharp claws and teeth.

King-Ray left Mikey to fend for himself and laughed, getting closer to Jeffrey. He tottered forward and pulled Jeffrey into his clutches. His meaty fingers clamped over his small neck and he raised him a foot off the ground. Jeffrey gasped for air and thrashed around, trying to break free, but King-Ray only gripped him tighter.

"Let…me…_go! Help!"_ Jeffrey coughed out. He felt like he would lose consciousness soon.

An overpowering voice broke through the clamor of the gang's vicious shrieks. Ralph backed up from a badly scratched Mikey and circled Phineas, growling at the others to stay away.

"Drop your filthy hands from that boy!" Phineas demanded.

King-Ray laughed again, but didn't obey. "So! We meet again, Bogg! Still playing the hero, aren't you? If you're looking for Drake, he's not here! I'm finished doing business with him! He's lost his prize!" He snarled.

Phineas felt his heart clench. The 'prize' was the miniature version of his 'omnichron.' Simply called, an omni. Drake was not to be underestimated. He intensely studied the elements of time travel along with Phineas and was jealous when the Voyager Tribunal overlooked him for the project's creation and chose Phineas instead. If Drake had discovered how to use the testing omni, he may have already made changes to the flow of history. It suddenly hit Phineas that the theft of his book was a set-up, it was what Drake wanted all along, so he could build his own time-travel device.

"I don't care for all that! Put the boy down, now!"

"You're a liar! Drake told us that's all you've ever cared about! Harboring those precious secrets!"

Jeffrey lurched and attempted to scratch King-Ray's hand.

"I'm going to kill you, boy!" King swung Jeffrey's body closer to the edge.

"No you don't!" Phineas thundered.

He shot the crossbow at King's leg and the arrow embedded into his thigh. King-Ray squealed and his grip on Jeffrey finally loosened. He fell to the floor and struggled to yank out the arrow. Phineas grinned.

"You do that, King-Ray, and it will make your wound worse. I've designed these arrows myself. The more pressure you exert on it, the wider the tip expands. It could easily turn deadly."

"You outlandish freak! I'll kill you both!"

King-Ray crawled to his feet lunged after him. Phineas leaped out of his way and King-Ray landed upon his face and hands.

A piercing crack erupted and the roofing beneath King-Ray began to cave in, the inferno had reached the top.

"_Arrrhhh! No! NO!"_ King-Ray screamed as the flames entrapped him. He managed to keep his grasp on the landing and struggled to climb up. Phineas was tempted to help, but it was too late. It was a horrific sight as the flames kept devouring the thief.

"It was you or the boy! Let it be you, you scum!" Phineas hollered.

Phineas ran to Jeffrey, who looked relieved and devastated all at once. He sobbed and clutched his bruised throat with small gasps. Phineas knelt down and Jeffrey fell into his arms. He hid his face against Phineas' shoulder until King-Ray lost his grip and fell to his demise.

"_Shh…_it's going to be alright. King-Ray got what was coming to him. I'm here, boy…" Phineas tried to console him, and at the same time conceal his desperation.

Smoke billowed and the heat was melting the rooftop. Still holding onto Jeffrey, Phineas waved his arm at the other shaken boys. "If you want to live, take the fire escape on the South side now while it's still standing! We'll be right behind you_ Go!"_

He pushed one and they all followed after like mad to try to save themselves. Mikey, however, was not going to be trampled so easily. Bogg would not have been here for nothing. He remembered spying on Jeffrey in the carriage and noticed that the boy had tried to conceal a book from him. He wiped his mouth and rushed at Jeffrey, surprising Phineas with his strength when he shoved him away. He dug into Jeffrey's coat and pulled out the guidebook. He shook it at Phineas.

"So this_ is_ why you're here, Bogg! You really don't care about the kid! I wonder what's in this? Maybe the same bunk Drake was talking about all that time! I'm taking this with me!"

Jeffrey's eyes widened and he jumped onto Mikey. "No! You give that back! It belongs to him!"

Mikey rammed him onto the ground. "Not a chance! It's mine now!"

"Let it go!"

Ralph dove into the fight before Phineas could. He got his teeth firmly onto the book and yanked it out of Mikey's hands. Mikey backed away. He had to escape like the others; otherwise he would fall into the flames. If Phineas Bogg made it out of this alive, Mikey was going to make sure he acquired whatever secrets he was hiding and find a way to use it to his advantage. Only one other man would know how to get at Bogg, Danton Danior Drake III, and Mikey was going to scour the city until he found him.

Phineas raced up to Jeffrey and it became a virtual tug of war with the guidebook. Jeffrey grabbed the remnants of Ralph's leash and kept trying to yank him back. Ralph scratched at Phineas' legs and refused to release it.

"He's got my book! Get the lousy fleabag off of me!"

Jeffrey yanked on his collar to no avail. "Ralph! Give it up!"

A blast of heat surged upon them. The smoky air was unbearable and they could barely see each other. Phineas tugged harder and the dog pulled back, knocking into Jeffrey.

"_Augghhh! Help!"_

Phineas watched horrified as the boy flailed his arms and went straight over the edge. He forgot about the guidebook, he forgot about everything. In one selfless act he dove straight after Jeffrey. Soaring through mid-air, Phineas yanked out the grappling gun in one hand, and he stretched out his free arm and wrapped it around Jeffrey. His coat sailed open as if he were on leather wings and he fired the gun, praying it coiled around something before they splattered to the pavement. The wire reached the top of another building and the talons gripped the top of a giant metal billboard.

The people below them cried out in wonder and clapped. One of the men looked up and noticed the dog was still stranded and about to leap.

"Quickly! Get the blanket!"

They spread the quilt open again and Ralph landed smack into the center. The book was still in his mouth. He bounced off unharmed and ran far from the crowds before anyone could catch him. He had to find his master Jeffrey somewhere. His scent remained on the book and that was what he would hold onto as he searched through the city.

**~V~**

Phineas thrust out his legs and raced sideways down the billboard to slow down his landing. Jeffrey's body was draped over his chest and he had crossed his legs behind his back and his arms over his neck. Phineas let the wire go lax and he and Jeffrey swung back and forth until he built up enough momentum to jump. Phineas pushed the clamp and the talon released itself again. It looked to be a rough jump for him, but he made it successfully. The custom design of his coat allowed him to glide on the winds. When his boots hit the ground he tumbled and fell purposely on his backside so he wouldn't crush the boy.

Jeffrey quaked on top of him, still crying. He didn't want to let go. Phineas forced himself to a sitting position. Ramona was going to have to draw up a hot bath with oils so he could sooth his aching back and muscles. The important thing was that they were both safe. Phineas stroked Jeffrey's hair and tried to gently nudge him up.

"Hey…do you mind?" He asked.

Jeffrey was finally able to look around. "Oh! Sorry! Are we alive?" He whispered.

"Yeah, we're alive." Phineas replied, shaking the dust off him as he came to his feet. "Now come on…I gotta get you back…and get my poor horse!"

Jeffrey rolled away from him, terrified again. _"NO!_ I can't go back! King-Ray is dead! I have nowhere to go! Don't put me in jail! The cops don't care about orphans! Please! I'm sorry I stole your book! I wanted to return it! I did! That's why I hid it in my coat. I don't wanna steal anymore! I hate being a thief!" He wailed.

Phineas' heart softened and he put out his hands. "It's alright, kid. Stay calm. It was just a…a book, that's all it was."

"But…but I read some of it. I know what that machine is all about now! It's unbelievable, but I saw it for myself."

"It's just an old book with my mindless ramblings, ugly drawings, and boring prose." Phineas hushed him. "It wasn't worth risking your life over."

Phineas cringed, not believing his own words. However, the swell of pride and utter relief that he saved the child meant more to him than anything at the moment.

Jeffrey came up to him and rubbed his bleary eyes. He was exhausted and covered with soot. They were both much worse for wear.

"No, I know why it was so special. It's your life's work and your personal thoughts. You need that book! You have to finish your machine! You know, you and me are sorta alike. We both lost our parents."

Phineas glanced down and held back weary tears. The boy had read his journal entries. "Yeah, kid. I guess so. Now let's get out of here, I can't breathe with all this smoke."

Panic set in him again and Jeffrey grasped his coat. "Please…_Bogg_…tell me! Where will you take me!"

Phineas craned his neck and flexed. The thought of an orphanage had occurred to him but there was something so endearing about the boy that he at once changed his mind. This boy was special and he needed his help. Perhaps, they needed each other. He put an arm over Jeffrey's shoulder and walked him toward the fire escape. He groaned when he looked down, they were even higher than the other warehouse. If he had to deal with these ugly metal stairs one more time tonight, he was going to blow a small fit. He sighed and then smiled at Jeffrey to keep him relaxed. Jeffrey hesitantly smiled back at him, and sensed Phineas' deep concern for his welfare.

"We're going home, kid. _My home_."

**To be continued in 'Prisoners of Time Story II: A Voyager's credo  
**


End file.
